Poleis
by Corbeaun
Summary: Eunuchs, male bonding, and the selling off of a queen. The Pevensies and imperial intrigue in the Calormen city of Tashbaan during the events of the Horse and His Boy.
1. Chapter 1

**Poleis**

by Corbeaun

1.

"Stop!" Edmund's shout arrested the downward arc of the sword. He pushed past the throng of indolent onlookers and jumped onto the platform. The boy that was beneath the sword threw himself with a pitiful cry at Edmund's feet. The big overseer witnessed all this with an incredulous frown.

"I don't know who you are, Barbarian," the man growled, lowering his sword, "but you are disturbing a civilized proceeding."

Edmund looked calmly at the man. "What has this boy done?"

Around the platform, a restless muttering rose from the onlookers. The wizened Calormen guide who had dogged his heels tried to lead him down the platform. "Come away, lord," he muttered fretfully, touching the hem of Edmund's sleeve. "He is but a half-man and a slave, not fit to lick the dust beneath your boots."

Edmund blinked at the Calorman's remark and glanced over the bound slave shivering at his feet. The subtly androgynous features, the arms slightly too long for the body. Smooth but unshaven cheek. Edmund felt his groin clench in sympathy. "Nonetheless, We desire to know his crimes."

The big overseer slammed the sword into the wooden block, not at all intimated by the pale-faced foreigner. "He is an ingrate and a thief."

The guide whispered to Edmund, "You are unfamiliar with our customs, lord, but in our country we punish theft and prevent it in the future by cutting off the transgressing appendage."

The sword had been poised to cut off the slave's feet.

"What did he steal?" Edmund said.

The overseer sneered, nudged the boy's thigh with his toe. "He sought to steal himself. And him my master having paid a goodly five crescents for, and more besides for his training. Well," the overseer folded his bulky arms across his chest, "he can use some of his training just as easily without feet."

The boy uttered no sound, only remained abased at Edmund's feet, head bowed. Edmund considered him for a moment, then slipped a slim silver band from his finger. Beside him, Edmund saw the guide start in dismay, but he ignored him. "Here." He extended the ring to the overseer. "Show this to the treasury and you can redeem his bondage-debt twofold."

The overseer made no move to take the ring. Instead, he spat on the ground before Edmund and the trembling slave. "We have no need of your gold here, false worshipper," he snarled.

Immediately, the guide drew himself up before the overseer and struck his staff against the platform plank. "Hold your tongue! This is the Barbarian King, honored guest of the Tisroc (may-he-live-forever)."

Seeing the imperial emblem on the guide's staff, the overseer's eyes widened and he hurriedly bowed to Edmund for the first time. "Forgive this unworthy slave, lord."

The guide looked down contemptuously at the bowed overseer. "Thank the Barbarian King."

The overseer took the ring and bowed low again, this time not rising from his bowed position.

Discomforted, Edmund turned away and suddenly realized the boy had not moved at all during the alteration. "Come with me," he said gruffly, touching the boy on the arm. The boy meekly followed behind him as Edmund and the guide walked down the platform. The crowd, hard-eyed and close-lipped, parted for them down around the platform. The boy, Edmund saw, did not have shoes. He told the old Calormen guide to call for a litter, and when it came (too quickly, thought Edmund, for it to have come without fore planning), he told the boy to get in and suddenly realized he didn't know what to call him.

"What is your name?" he asked the eunuch -- for that was what the boy was.

"Muti," he whispered, without raising his eyes.

"He-who-is-obedient?" The Calormen guide standing beside Edmund regarded the boy distastefully. "This name is no longer fit for one such as you. Henceforth you shall be known as Marzuq, he-who-is-fortunate. Abase yourself before your master, the Barbarian King. For indeed, more kindness has been shown this day than a wretch such as you deserves."

Even as he stopped the boy from falling again at his feet, Edmund protested to the guide, "I did not pay to buy him."

The dark-faced Calormen simply stared at him as if at a very simple child. "Why else did you?" he said, then belatedly added, "Lord."

Edmund frowned at the guide. He looked to the boy. "I have paid your debt, Muti. You are free to leave. Now, if that is your wish, though I would hope to send you off with provisions."

At that, the boy raised his eyes to Edmund for the first time. "Master, I have no use for freedom and I did not try to escape. My former mistress resented her husband's attention on me -- it was she who took me to be falsely punished." Edmund stared in dismay. The boy lowered his wide black eyes. "Please, master. If you do not want me," his voice alto soft, "I have no place to go."

And that was how Edmund found himself the owner of a smooth-limbed eunuch.

end part 1 of _Poleis_

* * *

Author's notes: 

A darker look at what happened to the Pevensies while in Tashbaan. Future parts will contain varying degrees of castration complex, betrayal, and manly bonding. Also, Susan is a jaded woman and a georgeous diplomat.

10.26.2005


	2. Chapter 2

**Poleis**

by Corbeaun

2.

Of the life before he was sold, Muti—whose birth name is forgotten—has vague memories of hard, calloused hands that cradled him to sleep and the sting of a cooking fire too close to sleeping quarters. He remembers the biting pain of an empty belly the winter before he was sold. So many years later, he cannot even remember if it was a man or woman that first took him from the village that long ago winter day. He thinks back on his first impression of Trashbaan and it is only a riot of smell and color and pain as the slave-trader's heavy hands held him down on the cutting block.

Of his first owner, he remembers the bristly rasp of the beard and the sweetmeats offered after. It lasted till he began to grow and then he was quickly sold. His second owner was a woman, who had a maternal smile and soft touch and Muti thought he could love her, 'til the day she gifted him to a friend on a whim. Of his third owner, he remembers only perfumed hair and fat, bejeweled fingers that pinched and pulled. His fourth owner was kind but helpless against his rich and powerful wife.

His fifth owner is a barbarian and an unbeliever.

The sorcerous king of a wild land in the north, so Muti learns in the days after. He sees with his own eyes the half-beast half-man creatures that prance through his new master's quarters, and he hears with his own ears the human voices coming from inhuman throats. Half-goats and talking birds, such guises as demons wear to taunt children in dreams. It is no more unbelievable than the men who are beardless like women or eunuchs, and walk shamelessly in public without covering the bare skin of their legs—a disgrace not suffered by even the cheapest whore in the Ivory Quarter. Even the women are man-like in their movements and not even the highborn among them veil their faces before strange men—not even his master's sister-wife.

"The Queen Susan will not be pleased," a pale-faced barbarian lord had said to his master the king when his master had brought him back to his living quarters. And indeed she was not. Muti knew enough of jealous and powerful wives to be uneasy, and he had taken care to only show submission in his body when the queen came to scrutinize him with a hard eye. That she is both sister and queen surprised him little, for the temple teachers often warn against the perversities of the northern lands, and it only troubles him for the influence he know this relation would mean she has over his new master.

He disliked her cold hard stare and her white face. She did not touch him, and for that he was glad. She left together with his new master, saying nothing, but later when the notice came for Muti to live in the common slaves quarter, he knew whose hand had penned it. It was little consolation to remember that this disgrace is preferable to the cutting block.

Muti only hopes his new master sells him before, rather than after, leaving civilized Calormen for his wild Northern kingdom.


End file.
